


Two Minutes

by Amailia



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10384710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amailia/pseuds/Amailia
Summary: !Spoilers up through The Heart of the Nora main quest!Just a quick couple scenes to get Aloy and Erend together :-)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if any of my facts are off, the wikis are severely lacking for this game still. That leaves only my terrible memory for fact-checking, and it’s unreliable at best!

Aloy stared up at the gilded ceiling beams. Her eyes focused and unfocused as the painted wood glimmered in the flickering firelight.

She’d been perfectly content sleeping in the stables of an old inn just outside town. But then the sun-king found out. Now she was stuck here — the royal guest quarters — at Avad’s insistence.

She hated it. Every beautiful, intricately-carved timber, every fine tapestry, every feather-soft linen and steaming hot bath laden with fragrant petals. Awful.

But cursed-mother, it was so comfortable. That made her hate it even more.

Aloy shifted up the cushioned bed toward the headboard, an iconic sun-blazoned design sculpted from jungle timber, dark as mud. It was a dense wood, and would have been a very difficult undertaking for whoever carved it.

Her head sunk into the feather-stuffed pillow and she let out a deep breath. Maybe, just for now, she’d let herself appreciate the comforts.

She’d just returned from Mother’s Heart. From All-Mother or Eleuthia or whatever you wanted to call it. And her mind was still spinning from everything she’d learned. She’d final found out where she’d come from, which was what she wanted all along. But instead of a sense of fulfillment or accomplishment, she just felt hollow.

It was stupid — ridiculous, in fact — to grieve someone that never existed. But the logic of it didn’t change anything. It wasn’t nearly as painful as losing Rost, but it was just as real.

And nicely ironic. She was born of a metal womb. Born to a machine. Perfect.

She’d only gone to find out where she’d come from, or that’s what she’d told herself. She _had_ to kill the cultists and destroy the Machines to clear herself safe passage to All-Mother. If that involved saving the Nora, then so be it. A coincidence.

But deep down she knew she’d done it for Rost. The Nora were always his people, even if they were never hers. She’d never cared before, she’d always hated them. But now that Rost was gone, how she’d treated him, how she’d spurned his beliefs… the guilt was killing her. Why couldn’t she have accepted their laws, their beliefs, like he wanted? She’d been a petulant, disrespectful child, and Rost had deserved better.

So she’d gone to help the Nora to try and make up for it. But too many braves had died, and she knew it was too little too late.

She supposed she’d be getting what she wanted, then. She’d have no true allies, belong to no people. She’d be an outcast not just of the Nora, but the world.

A knock echoed through the chambers and she sat up straight, spear gripped in one white-knuckled hand. She held her breath and waited.

Three more soft thuds.

She took a breath to steady her racing heart and stood up. She stalked slowly across the room and leaned against the door.

“Aloy?” came a muffled voice.

It was… Erend?

The heavy wooden door creaked as she pulled it open a sliver and peeked out.

It really was Erend. Erend in full armor, Erend with his war maul strapped to his back. Erend with three armor-clad Vanguards standing behind him at the very end of the hall, talking amongst themselves.

She hadn’t seen him in months, since he’d returned to the Claim to force Dervahl to face judgment… and to bury his sister.

He looked different in a way Aloy couldn’t put her finger on. Dark bags hung under his ice-blue eyes, but his cheeks were flushed and the band of hair along the top of his head was windswept. He looked as if he’d just stepped off horseback after weeks of travel. He seemed more tired than she remembered, but at the same time, lighter. Less burdened.

Erend rocked back on his heels and tugged at the looped ring in his right ear. “Aloy.”

“Erend. you’re… here.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah.”

She pulled the door open the rest of the way. “Why?”

“Well, I uh, heard about the Nora… the attack. But I just talked to Avad… sounds like you already took care of it.” He scoffed a small laugh and shook his head. “I shoulda known you wouldn’t need help.”

Aloy opened her mouth but wasn’t sure what to say at first. “So, you came, and brought these men… to fight with me?” she asked, suddenly aware of the skepticism in her voice.

“It was just going to be me, but then the guys volunteered.” He flashed a stilted grin. “But who needs an army when you’re Aloy, am I right?”

Aloy narrowed her eyes. He’d said _help_. No one _ever_ helped. Except Nil, but… that was something else entirely. “No one ever wants to help,” she mumbled, practically to herself.

Erend raised a thick eyebrow. “Uh, what?”

She shook her head. “I… don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“’Course,” he said with a shrug. “I owe you, after all.”

“You don't owe me anything,” she said, suddenly aware of how harsh her tone was.

His eyes fell to the worn floorboards and he crossed his arms. “Right, I, uh…”

Aloy sighed. Cursed-mother, she’d done it again.

Rost had more than prepared her for the physical dangers of the outside world. But he’d said nothing of the social order, of what was “proper” or “expected”. It was a whole different kind of hunt, one she found herself losing ground with, every day.

She took a breath and thought about what Vanasha would say.

After they’d returned weeks ago from rescuing Prince Itamen — and Vanasha had gotten over her initial amusement at Aloy’s “unmatched ability to be terribly blunt” — the handmaiden-turned-spy had sat her down and tried to help. Tried to teach her about “hospitality” and “the social treatise”, now that she was going to live outside the Embrace.

But in all honesty, Aloy had been having trouble finding a way to care. She’d grown up an outcast in more than name, and she could count the number of interactions she’d had with people other than Rost on one hand. And no one had ever treated her with the respect she was now expected to demonstrate.

But the crestfallen look on Erend’s face, and the heavy air that now hung between them, was causing Aloy to second guess her disregard. Not everyone — _certainly_ not everyone, but maybe _some_ people — deserved better.

“What I mean is,” Aloy began carefully, “helping you find Ersa… I don’t expect anything in return. It’s not a trade. That’s all I mean.”

“Right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “’Course.” But his eyes remained focused on the floor.

She bit her lip and tried to figure out what was supposed to come next. She felt it would be considered polite to invite him inside, but something felt wrong about that. Vanasha would say it’d be too “forward”. She needed to find neutral ground, level territory.

“Erend?”

He finally looked up at her. “Yeah?”

“Are you hungry?”

His teeth flashed in a smile. “Constantly.”


	2. Chapter 2

As the sun’s rays quietly disappeared below the sandstone walls of Meridian proper, the Astral Hawk was bustling with life. Patrons filtered into the fenced patio as the shifts changed and shops closed. The grizzled pub owner ran mugs of ale while a boy made the rounds to light sconces and fire bowls, casting the crowded terrace in warm, flickering firelight.

A group of musicians began to play in the far corner as Erend slid onto a bench at the only empty table. His men disappeared into the crowd, headed for the bar. He looked over his shoulder to find Aloy hovering back at the entrance. Her sharp eyes darted as they surveyed the patio, the patrons, the servers, the entrance, the alleyway, the city guard on duty, the cart shambling by…

He let out a sigh. She was surveilling, getting the lay of the land. She just couldn’t turn it off.

“Aloy,” he prompted, and she looked over at him, seeming to snap out of her reverie. He swept out a hand to offer her a seat, and she crawled onto the bench across from him. The worn wooden table creaked as Erend leaned forward, watching the patrons mill around, gossiping and laughing as they threw back mugs of ale.

This was Erend’s stomping ground, familiar territory. And to him, it felt much more like home than his recent visit to _actual_ home had, that was for sure. Especially now that Ersa was gone. But even though it felt comfortable and familiar, something was off. Things felt different.

For one, the free round of ale of that showed up on their table wasn’t in honor of “the steadfast Vanguard” but instead “the fearless Machine Hunter”. Aloy’s cheeks went so red, they practically blended in with her hair. He couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. After an awkwardly long pause, Erend thanked the grateful citizens for her, and they stumbled off.

And secondly, instead of solely polite nods and occasional pats on the back from friendly folk, he was also receiving a decent number of harsh glares and murmured complaints. It seemed not everyone agreed with the extradition of Dervahl back to the Oseram, and he was apparently the one to shoulder the blame. He should have expected that reaction, he supposed, but it still caused a heavy, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“They’re talking about Dervahl,” Aloy said suddenly, voice raised just a little too loud over the din of the crowd.

Erend managed to force a grin. She was nothing, if not blunt. “I know.”

She leaned forward on the table. “They don’t agree with the decision.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “It was the king’s decision.”

She tilted her head but said nothing more.

He gestured to the mugs of ale they’d been gifted. “Gone a few months and they’ve already got you up on a pedestal?”

“What?” she said, the skin between her eyebrows crinkling.

“I mean, they idolize you. You’re making a name for yourself. You must have kept busy since I left.”

She nodded slowly and looked down at her mug. “Yeah it… kind of never ends.”

“I bet.”

She leaned down and stuck her nose in her mug and sniffed.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“What is this?”

“Are you kidding?”

She blinked at him, expression blank.

“You’re really not kidding…”

She looked over her shoulder as a man at the table behind her ordered another drink. “It’s a _pint_ ,” she answered, looking back at Erend seriously.

He laughed and leaned forward on the table. “It’s… ale, beer. You don’t have alcohol in the Promised Land, or whatever?”

“Sacred lands.”

“Sure.”

She glared but didn’t look precisely _mad_. Mostly just exasperated, and he was more than used to that.

“There’s some kind of ceremonial wine used for something,” she answered, “but I’ve never had any. Obviously.”

“Alright, Outcast,” he said, shoving her mug closer toward her, “give it a try.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Are you really going to call me that?”

“At least ’til you stop acting like one.”

Her jaw clenched but she lifted the mug up to her mouth. She took one last sniff then tossed it back. And she didn’t put it down.

His mouth dropped open slowly as she proceeded to chug the entire beverage. Moments later, the hollow mug clanged against the table and she wiped some foam off her lip with the back of her hand. She stared back at him, unblinking.

His pulse quickened, and he broken into an involuntary grin. This girl…

“What do you think?” he managed.

“Tastes like fermented weeds.”

His head bobbed. “Yeah, that’s basically what it is.”

“That a boar pissed on.”

He laughed. “You’ll learn to like it.”

“I doubt that.”

“Trust me. It’s an acquired taste.”

“Aren’t you going to have any?” she asked, nodding to his mug. “You enjoy drinking, if memory serves.”

His cheeks warmed and he shook his head. “I, uh… I’m going to take a hard pass.” He’d done enough drinking after Ersa disappeared to last a lifetime, and already drunkenly embarrassed himself in front of Aloy once. He saw no need for a repeat performance. He pushed his mug across the table toward her. “It’s all yours.”

“I don’t like it,” she said. But then she picked up the mug and took a sip. Her shoulders loosened and she slid down in her seat, some of her rigidity seeming to slip away.

She took another long pull and he put out a hand to push the mug back down. “Maybe take it easy on this one…”

She glared.

He held his hands up in submission. “Just trying to help. It can hit you fast if you're not used to it.”

She set the mug down, entwined her fingers, and leaned forward. “Tell me what happened with Dervahl.”

He scoffed a laugh and the bench groaned as he sat back.

Aloy looked down and let out a soft sigh. “I… mean, would you like to talk about what happened to Dervahl?”

“Unfortunately there’s not much to say,” he admitted.

Her eyebrows rose. “No?”

“There was a lot of arguing about what the ‘proper’ punishment would be.”

“But there will be punishment?” she asked, tone hard.

“Of course,” he said. “They just wanted to argue about it for a while first, I guess. I don’t know, I tried not to get involved.”

“Is that why you left?”

“No. I left because I thought I might be able to help you.”

“So… they could execute him before you return?”

“Possibly,” he said, suddenly wishing he hadn’t passed off his drink. “Probably.”

“So you left without seeing him face justice?”

Erend sighed heavily. “The justice he deserved was my knife in his gut, but that didn’t happen. ‘Cause we’re a ‘civilized society’ or whatever. The point is, he’ll get what’s coming to him when they get around to deciding what that means. But in my mind, it’s already over. I’m moving on.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly, her fingers running along the rim of her mug. “Dwelling on it serves no purpose.”

He nodded and she took another long drink, her freckled cheeks growing pinker with every sip.

“And… Ersa?” she asked.

His heart beat up into his throat and he swallowed the lump back down. His voice was low but he managed to keep it steady, somehow. “We laid her to rest on the hill we grew up on. Next to Mom and Dad.”

“I’m sorry you had to… do that,” Aloy said slowly. “I… wish I could have been there. For you, I mean.”

His brow raised. “Uh, you do?” He couldn’t quite tell if she was being sincere, or repeating back some scripted response someone had told her might be appropriate in this situation.

But then she leaned forward and laid one of her hands on top of his. Her palms were warm but her fingertips were icy cold. “Of course,” she said sincerely, and any doubt he had vanished.

He sat frozen, completely unsure of what to do or say next. Reading Aloy was like trying to guess which way a forge-fire’s spark would flit, and even now — despite how sincere and honest she seemed — he found himself second guessing his reading of the situation.

“Well, that’s what I did on my trip home,” he said, then leaned back and crossed his arms. “How about you?”

She took a long drink, then sat back and sighed. “Lots of the same. Machines need killing, bandits need killing, turkeys need killing…”

Erend realized her speech was beginning to shift. Not slurred — she’d have to be far drunker to let it show, he was sure of it — but her words were becoming slow and purposeful, like she had to control each as they left her lips. Granted, she’d had almost two pints in just a handful of minutes. He supposed at her size, that’d make for a decent buzz.

“Then back south,” she continued. “A deathbringer, a thunderjaw, some cultists, then I went inside a mountain and found out where I came from.” She tipped back her drink again, then set the empty mug back on the table. Her brow creased. “My stomach feels really warm…”

“Uh, _deathbringer?_ ” He gaped at her, but she didn’t look like she was going to respond. “That sounds like quite a story.”

“Phew,” she said, pressing her palms into her forehead. “I think this crap poisoned me.”

He laughed and signaled to the pubkeep. “It’s not poison,” he assured. “Well I guess it kind of is…”

The grizzled owner shambled over. “Captain, welcome back.”

“Thanks Rix. Can we get a couple bowls of soup, or whatever you have on tonight?”

“Boar stew.”

“Great. And some bread?” Erend added, eyeing Aloy’s darkening cheeks. She was going to need something to start sopping up the ale.

“Right away.” Rix disappeared into the bustling crowd.

“Robin eggs,” Aloy said suddenly, leaning over the table toward him, eyes locked on his.

Erend glanced around, then looked back at her. “Uh, what?”

“I figured it out.”

“Figured what… out?”

“But like, sort of dirty robin eggs.” She hiccuped. “Like cloudy robin eggs, before a storm.”

“Aloy…” he laughed, “what?”

“Your eyes.”

His smile faded, but before he could find words again, Aloy took a deep drink and dropped the empty mug back onto the table. “What about mine?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Your eyes?”

“Yes.”

“Well…” He leaned back and took a deep breath. She stared at him expectantly, eyes wide and curious, cheeks flushed. The ale had really gone straight to her head, it seemed. Who knew someone so fierce could make such an adorable drunk? Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised that she was still full of surprises.

“Well?” she prompted.

He shrugged. “Fire kiln root.”

A smile spread across her face, the first he’d seen from her since he’d returned — or maybe ever, for that matter. A grin tugged at his own lips that he couldn’t suppress, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of how much he’d missed having her around.


	3. Chapter 3

Erend gave a rueful grin at the palace guards as he helped a stumbling Aloy up the steps toward the royal guest wing.

“I can do it,” Aloy insisted as they crested the stone staircase. She turned and weakly shoved him away. He held up his hands in submission. She giggled lightly then faced forward, teetering before plunging onward toward the courtyard. Erend followed close behind, trying his best to stay within catching distance.

As she stumbled, wavering on the precipice of falling face-first onto the stone walkway, Erend wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have encouraged her. Maybe he should have passed that first round of drinks onto his men, and never let her touch the stuff.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to handle a drunk — he’d been in the position of getting intoxicated friends home countless times — but this one felt different. He felt responsible for her in a way he couldn’t quite account for.

They passed through the courtyard and arrived at an arched corridor, where Aloy paused briefly before turning and meandering to the left.

“Aloy…”

She stopped and turned to face him, stare level but eyes unfocused. “What.”

“It’s this way.” He nodded to his right.

“I know that.” She flashed him a grin, then about-faced and marched the other way.

Erend bit back a smile and followed to the end of the corridor, where she picked two wrong doors before finding the correct one.

She shouldered up to it and grit her teeth, pressing against the door with her whole body. “Erend,” she grunted, “someone’s barred it.”

He stepped up and turned the handle, and the latch clicked open. The door swung inward and Aloy started to fall along with it. He caught her time, gripping her shoulders to keep her upright as she stumbled inside.

She scoffed and grinned. “I knew that.” She righted herself, smoothing out the stitched fabric on the front of her tunic before giving him a curt nod. “Thank you, Sir Erend.”

He grinned. “It was, uh, my pleasure, Lady Aloy.”

She let out a hoarse but hearty laugh and Erend’s chest filled with an unfamiliar weight, equal parts nerves and exhilaration. Aloy laughing was not something one heard every day.

Her amusement disappeared into a long, heavy yawn, and she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands.

“You’ll get to bed ok?” he asked.

She gave a rough approximation of a salute. “Yes, Captain.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Alright. G’night, Aloy.” He turned back to the door.

“Erend?” Her voice came soft and subdued, barely audible over the crackling fire in the hearth.

He fiddled at the door handle with his thumb for a few moments as he took a few steadying breaths, then turned around. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course.”

“Do you think I’ll ever find—” She took a short, sharp breath, then hiccuped. “A people?”

“Find a people?” he asked, running a hand over his mustache.

“As in, you’re Erend of Oseram. Avad is Carja. Rost was…” The freckled skin between her eyebrows wrinkled.

“Nora,” Erend offered.

She nodded, her gaze never quite lifting to meet his.

“I think you’ve already found them,” he said.

“What?” she scoffed. “Who?”

“Anyone, hell — everyone,” he said. She lifted an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. “Everywhere you go, everyone you meet. They can all be your people.” Erend tilted his head as she looked down at her boots, cheeks darkening. He lightened his tone before he continued. “You should seriously consider a career in politics, Aloy. I’ve never seen someone flow between cultures so seamlessly.”

She scoffed a laugh. “We’re talking about the same Aloy right?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a little… direct. But people respect that.”

With her eyes locked on his knees, she cleared her throat and said, “Stay with me.”

Erend’s heart stopped momentarily, and he stood frozen for a few seconds before managing to find his voice back. “Sorry?”

“Stay. Lie with me.”

“Uh… what?”

“ _Lie._ You know…” She made a horizontal chopping motion with her hand. “In a cot. Er, bedroll…” Sighing heavily she shook her head, then gestured over her shoulder to the fluffy white featherbed across the room. “That thing.”

“Uh,” Erend begin, too shocked to be embarrassed by his voice breaking, “is ‘lie’ Nora for something more than it sounds like?”

“I do not know what that means,” she said plainly, still not meeting his eye.

“Aloy, I, uh, I’d love to stay, but you’ve had a lot to drink. I can't—”

Aloy closed the distance between them in a fraction of a blink. No wonder her prey fell so quickly, she moved faster than a plummeting glinthawk. But all thoughts of machines fell away as her lips pressed against his. They were rigid at first, almost harsh, but they softened as she leaned into him, tightening her arms around his neck. His heart raced and he tried to ignore thinking about if she’d ever even kissed anyone before. He was painfully aware that the answer was probably no — but it was an easy fact to overlook as her fingers gripped the back of his neck, urging him closer, her hips pressing forward.

“Uh, hah,” he let out a stilted laugh, the result of eagerness strangled by a need to resist. “Aloy, I should—”

But she seemed to not hear him at all. She kept her lips locked on his and he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. It was just a kiss, he told himself. Just a kiss as his heart thundered in his chest. Just a kiss as his blood superheated in his veins like a forge-fire. Just a kiss as a pressure was siphoned out of him, some invisible vise that’d been throttling him for who knows how long.

Aloy took hold of the front of his jerkin with far more strength than a person of her size should possess and started to pull him across the room.

“Aloy, I—” He again found himself protesting — for what bloody reason he couldn’t say — but she cut him off with another kiss. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling him down to sit beside her. He snuck in a deep breath, and with it her scent — warm and smoky like smoldering embers.

“Frozen forge, Aloy,” he released the kiss long enough to curse. “You're really not making this easy—”

“ _Just_ lie,” Aloy pulled away just far enough to meet his gaze, her gleaming amber eyes locking onto his for the first time since they’d left the bar. Golden firelight danced off her flushed cheeks. “Can I tell you something?” All bits of humor had left her tone. The stumbling, giggling Aloy had disappeared entirely.

“Of course,” he managed.

“I’m _good_ at being an outcast. I _was_ good.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Everyone’s so bothered by it. They feel bad, think I was mistreated, or a victim. But I was good at being alone. I was comfortable. Just me, the world, and Rost. And I didn’t need anything else, because I had nothing else _to_ need.”

Erend blinked heavily, unsure where she was going with this. She hadn’t told him much about her past, but he’d managed to gather that this Rost guy meant something to her. Like a mentor, or a father maybe. But from how she acted, he wasn’t around anymore. And not because he chose to stay away.

“But after you left,” she continued, “I felt different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know, exactly. Things just weren’t the same. I wasn’t good at it anymore. I didn’t realize it, I mean, I didn’t connect it, until now. That I had found another thing to need. Then it left before I knew I needed it, went far away to another land with no indication of when it’d return, or if it even would.”

Erend’s face warmed as she took his hands.

“And now it’s trying to leave again,” she continued, “And I don’t want it to.”

With an effort, Erend swallowed the lump in his throat, but it returned just as quickly. His heart was beating so loud against his chest, he was sure she had to be able to hear it. His ears were flooded with it, consumed by it.

He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It was only Aloy, after all. It had to be the unbidden thoughts firing through his head, the likes of which he’d never had before. He tried to force himself to come up with a response, but he couldn’t find the words.

The things he _wanted_ to say were ludicrous, and he couldn’t believe he was even thinking them. That he’d wanted to come back since the second he’d left. That he’d jumped at the first excuse he could find to return. That he’d secretly hoped he’d ride in just as she was going into battle and she’d realize she needed his help, even though he knew deep down she’d never _need_ anything from him. But mostly, he wanted to say that he’d never leave again, if that’s what she wanted.

Instead, he said, “Ok.”

The wrinkles ironed out of her forehead and her gaze softened, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She laid her head against his chest, and to his surprise, instead of worsening, his rampaging heartbeat began to slow. She nestled closer and a wave of calm washed over him. He tightened his arms around her and she let out a soft sigh as he laid his face onto the top of her head.

The sweat beading on his brow cooled, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in her scent and listening to her soft breaths as they slowed, punctuated only by the crackling fire.

Within minutes, Aloy slackened, and he knew she was asleep. He laid her back onto the thick feather pillow and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. She murmured something under her breath, then twisted onto her side and began softly snoring.

Erend stood as quietly as he could manage and glanced around the spacious room. The furnishings were as opulent and overdone as he’d have expected to see in the palace itself. Baskets of bread sat on a heavy wooden table against one wall, alongside a half-dozen different bottles of wine, some cheeses, and a variety of fruits, some of which Erend couldn’t even identify. Avad seemed to have spared no expense in trying to make Aloy comfortable.

A sudden bitter pang jolted Erend’s stomach. He’d half forgotten, thought nothing of it at the time. But now the memories came back perfectly clear: Avad fawning over Aloy’s prowess. Avad offering Aloy a job. Avad “politely insisting” she keep a residence in the city. Avad smiling at Aloy. Avad _flirting_ with Aloy.

Erend took a deep breath and did his best to shelve the feeling. He would need some time to fully process the idea that he might be competing with a king. He glanced over at Aloy, still snoring softly on the bed. He was the one she’d asked to stay, and that was enough for him.

He swung open the gilded doors of a hand-carved, dark wooden armoire, and found what he was looking for. He pulled out a stack of heavy woolen blankets and small feather pillows, then arranged them on the floor beside the bed, reserving one blanket to lay over Aloy. A slight chill had taken to the air, so he stoked the fire, feeding it a few more logs from the stack, then crawled into his nest of blankets.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough to feel as tired as he knew he was. It’d been a long day — he and his men had ridden almost nonstop the last week in their ultimately futile attempt to arrive in time.

Aloy suddenly let out a sharp breath and turned over. “Erend?”

“Here.” He reached up and laced his fingers into hers. She looked down at him on the floor and gave a half smile. She squeezed his hand, then sighed and laid back onto the pillow, quickly falling back asleep.

Erend kept his fingers entwined with hers and let out a heavy sigh. There was no going back now. He was well and truly screwed.


End file.
